dreams

So I have dreams. Nothing like ML King, Jr. - nothing particularly encouraging or life enriching. Simply a product of my mind deciding it never wants to shut down ... or even go into hibernation mode.

My dreams are vivid. Despite how much sense they don't make sometimes, I still have to question if things really happened. A consequence to that is I am tired when I wake up. And what was worse, while in India on a project trip near Mumbai, I needed to take Malaria meds. A major side effect stated was vivid dreams & hallucinations. Wow, those pills messed with me. I even very recently had a dream about Teletubbies, which was just strange. But this is all besides the point.

Most of the time, when analyzing and picking them apart, what I or others like my sister uncover is that what I ponder during the day, I also ponder at night (albeit in odd ways). Last night was just such a night.

It all started and ended with a mirror. I was speaking in front of a group of people about being real. I stood facing the mirror with my back to the audience. I said that what you see and what I see are very different. I don't know what you see, but I have an idea because I put on certain masks and mannerisms to present the Tammi I want you to think I am. What I see is a woman who is not in fact perfect - no where near it - and many times I don't even try to be. I see imperfection. I see pride even amidst my self loathing, but it's not all bad. I see someone that so desperately wants to hide sometimes - ah ha! that's progress because I used to always want to hide, to disappear. I see my wounds that I tried to make unnoticed for so long, too long. I see me.

I had gone home early on Thursday and while seeing what was on TV, caught the last bit of a Dr. Phil episode. Ordinarily I would skip on by, but the title and what was happening captured my attention. Apparently Dr. Phil is doing a series called Get Real Retreat. A man was telling the group that he doesn't have it all together. He owes child support, is in debt, isn't the father of his child ... he made the choice to be who he is in front of this group and consequently also in front of whatever extremely large television viewing audience.

Way to go secular television. Where is the church? We know that it is only God's grace that first accepted us just as we were, where we were ... and continues to redeem us in just the same way. Why aren't people finding freedom to 'get real' in church among a body of people who know exactly how good it is not to need to hide. And yet - and yet, we still hide from each other.

I am starting to sound preachy. hm. It breaks my heart to see people that are trying so hard and struggling so much to keep their mask (or masks) up. I desire for them to know that freedom - that I still forget I have - of being me.

So still standing facing the dreaded mirror, I say: I want to live my life, not this reflection's life that I have put before you. You and I see different me's, but I want to see me from God's perspective and live like it. And I want to see you - not the image you put before me or what you see, but I want to see you, and love you for you, the real you. As real as California cheese. (sorry, couldn't resist).

Crazy dream, huh? whew. Glad that's not real.